


not so lucky

by mariafuckingcalavera



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Fair Game Week Day 1, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariafuckingcalavera/pseuds/mariafuckingcalavera
Summary: Clover's semblance isn't as good as everyone thinks it is.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & Clover Ebi, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 90





	not so lucky

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Fairgame Week, Day 1: Flirting/Semblances! I chose the latter :) oh and also, I made some modifications to Kingfisher. His hook can pivot around in inactive form and change into a russian roulette style revolver, the hook is detachable, it can change into a rapier. That's all, enjoy! (sorry if it's sloppy too i have been DYING for fairgame week)

They were more Grimm than Clover and Qrow had anticipated.

Clover swore under his breath, trying to shake himself out of his daze as another Centinel came slithering towards him, barely dodging it. He pressed a button on Kingfisher's reel, the hook detaching as the pole turned into a rapier in time for him to stab an incoming Centinel through the mouth. He heard a screech behind him to see another Centinel above him, but Qrow seemingly appeared out of nowhere, slicing through it with practised ease with his scythe before it reached Clover. Still in midair, his scythe formed into a sword, which he threw at the last Centinel, killing it before it could rise too far up from the ground.

"You okay?" Qrow asked as he landed on the ground, walking over to where his sword was. Clover snapped out of his stupor, registering Qrow's question in his mind.

"Yeah, why'd you ask?" Clover feigned innocence, averting his eyes from Qrow's, knowing the reason why. They just had to clear out the Grimm, this mission would be over soon. There was no need to worry him, he always managed these kinds of missions decently. He was always lucky like that. He has his semblance to thank, even though he didn't rely on it to keep him alive.

"You're normally quicker than me, yet I just saved your ass." Qrow remarked worriedly, his eyes softening with worry. Clover's eyes flickering to Qrow's concerned gaze for seconds before he looked forward once.

"Come on, there's sure to be more Grimm deeper into the mine." Clover sighed tiredly, walking further into the mine. Qrow ran up to block his path, his posture unyielding, his sharp stare challenging Clover to protest.

"Don't change the subject, spit it out. What's up with you?" Qrow asserted in an ordering tone as he jogged to catch up with Clover, worry for his partner falling off the edges of his gruff voice. Clover had been lagging behind him the entire mission, getting near misses, narrowly escaping the jaws of death on the multiple Grimm they faced. At first, Qrow chalked it up to his semblance: their semblances didn't cancel out each other, after all. All they did was create bouts of bad luck and bouts of good fortune. But even all the bad luck in the world couldn't explain how Clover's eyelids drooped slightly, how he nodded off for seconds at a time before he was jostled awake by a bump in the road. To say it worried Qrow was an understatement.

"Nothing's up with me, I'm fine." Clover denied, lying between his teeth as he averted his eyes from Qrow, walking in front of him, trying to focus on finding Grimm. He expected-or at least, he hoped- to hear Qrow's footsteps beside him without any more protest. but instead, he heard the sound of a Scroll switching on, and he turned back to see Qrow tapping at his Scroll to check his Aura.

"Qrow-" Clover interrupted frantically, trying to grab the Scroll out of his hands only for Qrow to dodge away easily, Clover stumbling towards the wall as their Aura levels appeared on his screen. Qrow's eyes widened with shock when he saw Clover's Aura in the red, way below the minimum amount of Aura required for a mission.

"Clover, you shouldn't even be out in the field! How long has it been like this?!" Qrow exclaimed with a mix of concern and frustration, everything else flying out the window. Fuck the mission, fuck the Amity project, fuck James, he thought to himself. With your Aura in the red, any mission becomes a suicide mission, especially in this tundra. Jimmy was being stupid or just borderline insane.

"I'm fine, it's nothing I haven't done before, don't worry." Clover tried to assure, and Qrow crossed his arms angrily, scoffing. His frustration grew with every word. He knew Clover was lying when he said he was fine: now that he knew, it made all the signs blatantly obvious. With the Amity Colosseum's laugh approaching fast, days with back to back missions were common for the Ace Ops, the kids and himself, whether they liked it or not. And in between those missions, the Grimm, and the tundra of Solitas, Qrow knew he could speak for everyone when he said everyone was at their limit, both physically and mentally.

"Your Aura is in the fucking red, and you're telling me not to worry?" He threw his hands up in the air, his worry prominent in his tone. Now, he could the fatigue in Clover's entire body more clearly: the way his shoulders slouched more than usual, the unfocused look in his eyes, his slow reaction time.

"Qrow, I'll be okay, the mission's almost done anyway-" Clover dismissed, but Qrow was far from done. The fact that Clover even felt like he had to put his life on the line for this stupid project infuriated him: James should have known they were all worn out, that they all needed rest, especially Clover, who's been overseeing most of the missions personally. He should have at least forced Clover to take a day off.

"Your life is worth much more than Jimmy's little fucking pet project!" Qrow scolded even more, worry getting the best of him, creeping into his voice. He was worried about Clover's wellbeing- fuck, it was the only thing he could possibly care about right now- but even if Clover was just a random stranger to him, Qrow didn't like these odds. They were around active dust that could be set off any minute if they weren't careful, Grimm could literally sprout out of the ground, and there were more Grimm than eyewitnesses could account for. All of those factors were bound to become a recipe for disaster if you threw Qrow's semblance into the ring.

"General Ironwood knows I have this handled, Qrow, I'm fine-" Clover tried to reassure Qrow.

"If Jimmy knew about this and still let you come on this mission, I swear on the brothers, I will snap his neck-" A monstrous roar pierced through the tension in the air, erupting from deep in the mines. Qrow swore under his breath as he grabbed Harbringer, running up ahead. Honestly, Qrow hoped Clover stayed behind: as much as he wanted him in his peripherals, he knew his semblance could end up in Clover getting hurt, especially when one hit from any kind of Grimm they see could kill him. It wouldn't have been a problem if he was at full strength, but his Aura was already so low, one hit could break his aura and do much worse damage than a scratch. It wouldn't have made a difference no matter who came on this mission with him.

He arrived ahead to see the pack of Creeps growling at him, ready to strike. He pressed a button, Harbringer turning into a tonfa just in time for a Grimm to come charging towards him. Qrow sliced through it easily before the handle extended to scythe form, Qrow spinning it to stab the Grimm in the head. Before he could charge at the next Grimm, a revolver bullet embedded itself in it's head, evaporating it. Qrow looked behind him to see Clover joining the fight, his weapon switching from a gun to a fishing pole.

"Stay back, I got this!" Qrow yelled, the sentence a complete lie, but Clover knew that. He knew Qrow couldn't handle that many Grimm on his own. The luckster didn't listen, charging into battle, Kingfisher in hand, hoping it was enough. Hoping he could push through. and the two danced in the heat of the battle: Qrow ever so graceful as he and his weapon danced to the rhythm of their hearts, to the growls of the Grimm echoing throughout the cave, creating ugly, fouls symphonies silenced as he swung Harbinger arching beautifully in the air, the remnants of Grimm evaporating away. And Clover followed suit, but he knew his own rhythm was just a few seconds too late, a few seconds too slow. His vision blurred as the steps became foreign, Kingfisher barely able to kill a Grimm before another came, and another came, running, trying to crash into him. His arms felt like lead, his eyes drooping, he was a trophy presented on a silver platter, his stance sloppy, his eyes unfocused. He slipped. Fell. As he was getting up, Qrow shoved him back onto the ground, to safety as a Grimm pounced on where he last was, claws sharpened.

A scream of agony rippled through the cave, and Clover felt his heart stop.

"QROW!"

~~~

_"My semblance brings misfortune. Sometimes I can’t keep it under control."_

_"That so? Well, don't beat yourself up about it."_

_"My semblance is good fortune. Lucky you, huh?"_

In truth, Clover hated his semblance. He absolutely detested it, it made him sick. Years and years and years people have praised and based every single thing he achieved on the one thing he hated the most, on the one thing that caused the bile to creep up his throat, the one thing that made him so fucking nauseous he spent nights shaking and sobbing as he knelt over the toilet, their faces flashing in his mind, impossible to forget. Impossible to drink it away. Impossible to lose it in all the vices he couldn't even count. Impossible to keep the people he loved close, impossible to keep them alive.

Because when he was a hair away from death, someone else wasn't.

When someone had died, he was lucky enough for it to have not been him.

"GET TO ATLAS!" Clover had screamed, his voice raw, broken, utterly shattered. Tears pooled in his eyes, streaming onto his cheeks as he carried a barely conscious Qrow in his arms, his skin deathly pale, his body trembling from the raging tundras of Solitas as Qrow's blood crept onto the fabric of Clover's vest. Drops of blood sunk in every seam and thread-like how he felt the terror sink into his muscles and veins, paralysing him as he saw the Grimm tearing through Qrow's aura, through his body, claws sinking deeper and deeper and deeper and he could swear he saw the Grimm grin with glee when the blood came gushing out from his body-

What the fuck have you done, Clover Ebi?

Tears sprung to his eyes as he gingerly lay his lover down on the ground of the cargo truck, hands shaking as he tried to find something, anything that would help. Why did he let that happen, why wasn't he faster, why wasn't he smarter, why did he even give Qrow the chance to push him out of the way, why did he freeze in terror, sitting there until a scream rippled through the air? His heart hammered in his throat, his being engulfed in panic as it was shoved into his mouth, filling his lungs, not letting him breathe, (because he didn't deserve to because he was sloppyandrecklessand _stupidstupidstupidso **fuckingstupid**_ it's your fault he'll die it's your fault that two girls lost their uncle it's your fucking fault he's ripped away from you once again like everybody is, it's your fault it's always you, Clover fucking Ebi.) leaving him choking on his own fear.

He's been here before, this is always how it ends. It always ended with the heart on his sleeve ripped to shreds, with the people he loved ripped away from him viciously, angrily, lost to the clutches of death they weren't lucky enough to escape. _No wonder people leave no wonder people die, no wonder you always get out of this alive, no wonder you leave trails of bodies in your wake, their blood on your hands-_

"Clover?" A voice weakly croaked, and Clover was by his side in a second, his tears spilling from his eyes.

"You'll be alright, you're gonna be just fine, okay?" Clover's voice faltered, hands trembling and shaking as he fumbled with the first aid kit. Qrow mumbled something he couldn't catch, but he was too busy fighting against the primal fear that was threatening to paralyse him as he ripped Qrow's clothes off, revealing the mangled, torn, wounds marking where his lips lay just days ago: on unscarred skin, on the warmth of Qrow's body (his body now felt like a corpse to the touch- he couldn't even think of it) that was once his safety, his anchor, the moans and little whimpers Qrow made music to Clover's ears. Now, he clung onto every moan and whimper that stabbed through his heart like a red hot dagger, his agonised whimpers his torturous lifeline, dreading the sounds erupted from his lips, yet savouring them, treasuring them because he would rather have anything rather than the cold, chilling silence as Clover cried over a corpse.

"You're going to be okay, you're gonna be okay, you have to be." He sobbed, his voice faltering, cracking, doubt creeping in, his voice cracking before the words ended with a choked out sob, wavering and shattering as sobbed: an ugly sound, but he didn't care, it was nothing compared to the fear rattled his bones, sinking deep into his flesh, resolve breaking and shattering (just like how he ruined everything good in his life, how he was lucky enough to leave unscathed as the fire burned and raged behind him) and it all led to Clover losing Qrow, like he lost so many others. Of course it did. Once again, the universe had proven him right: he could never love, he could never let his heart be stolen by someone else, he could never allow anyone to get too close, they'll just leave him and it'll all be his fault. It always is.

This was what he feared most, and this was what always came true. This was always the ending.

He would love with his entire being, and they would love him just as passionately. And just when he thought he could be happy, just when he thought they were safe from harm-

He's unscathed as he cries, lifeless eyes forever etched in his soul as life flickered away, giving way to dreading, looming clouds as their light fades away, leaving him dark, cold, empty where their light used to be.

_Don't leave me, Qrow. Please._

"I can't lose you too."

~~~

Qrow only knew bits and pieces as to what happened before he woke up.

He remembered Clover placing him down in the convoy, yelling at the driver to take them to Atlas. He remembered his endless apologies as he shakily bandaged his wounds the best he could. He remembers arriving at the hospital, and then nothing until he woke up, Ruby and Yang by his side.

Ruby and Yang had filled in the blanks where they could: telling him how they came to the hospital to see Clover crying, how he blamed himself for what happened to him (which Qrow found fucking _absurd_ by the way), how he refused to leave until Ironwood had said Qrow had chosen to take the hit and Clover practically shattered to pieces, yelling and screaming at Ironwood before he turned into a sobbing mess. Yang and Ren, who had followed Nora to the hospital to check on Ruby and Yang, had gotten through to him in the end. Ruby and Yang had stayed with him while Nora and Ren took Clover back to his quarters.

Safe to say, Clover was a mess when he came to see Qrow.

One look at Clover and you'd know that he hasn't slept. The way Clover's voice rasped, broken, consumed by the anxiety that still ate away at him, that was still present in his entire form. Qrow absolutely hated to see Clover like this: hair sticking out on all ends, dried flecks of blood stuck on his skin and hair, the relief in his tired eyes as he laid eyes on Qrow, tear stricken face buried in his shoulder when he hugged him. His heart shattered as he collapsed into his embrace, strangled sobs shaking his body.

"Have you slept? Eaten?" Qrow asked softly, his hands running through Clover's hair- something that seemed to soften the sobs to whimpers. He kept that in mind.

"You're the one in the hospital and you're worrying about me?" Clover tried to joke as he slowly pulled away, but his voice lacked his usual warm and playful nature. Qrow expected that, but he wasn't prepared for the quiver in his voice and how he spectacularly failed to hide the guilt in his voice.

"I had better chances of surviving that hit between the both of us, lucky charm, I knew what I was doing." Qrow asserted, and he meant it.

"You can't just do that, Qrow, you could have _died!_ " Clover stressed, haunted by the image as it flashed in his eyes.

"And you would have died if I didn't step in. I knew I could have made it out alive, it was just a few scratches, it's okay-" Clover cut him off, his shaking hands curling into fists.

"No, it's not! You could have died, you could have left behind two nieces who love you, you could have abandoned them all because you tried to save me-"

"Clover, I'm always going to try and save you-"

"And that's the _fucking_ problem, Qrow! Everyone who tries always gets killed, and I'm supposed to be lucky it wasn't me!" Clover cried, tears coming to his eyes. Qrow was silent as the words hung in the air, heavy. Qrow's heart ached when he finally understood what this was about: he was probably the only one who could understand, and he knew it. The drawbacks of a luck semblance no one else could even comprehend.

"I can't lose you too. Not like that." His voice was barely louder than a whisper, hairline fractures in his broken resolve. In that moment, Qrow understood why: Clover's semblance didn't rub off others as much as Qrow's did, as much as Clover wished it could. He couldn't even imagine the guilt sitting on his shoulders, how much he's blamed himself for: being the lucky survivor a tragic accident, the last Huntsmen alive in missions gone wrong. But Qrow isn't leaving Clover. It'll definitely take a lot more than some Grimm to tear them apart.

"You won't." Qrow finally whispered, the words shaped like a promise, a promise to Clover. One he understood, one with so much certainly Clover couldn't help the reassuring feeling that started to form in his chest. Qrow knew what his semblance was like, he knew everything that came with it, and Clover knew everything that came with his, too. And maybe, this time will be different. He hoped it would be. But what was important was that Qrow was still here.

And for now, that was enough.


End file.
